The Return
by arrasails1977
Summary: Story 2 in my 'His Witchy Woman' series. It has been a year since the gang faced Chalera, and has had to deal with the death of one of their friends.


The Return

Spike sat at the bar, drinking a glass of O-neg, mixed with whisky. He had a scowl on his face, which made the man watching him tentative to approach. He took a deep breath and went up to him anyway.

"Spike, is there anything else I can get you?" Willy held a bar towel in his hands, nervously twitching. Spike had been at the bar for the last four hours and the cloud, which hung overhead, had been getting steadily darker and darker.

Spike growled at him, but despite his fear, Willy was not going to be stopped. Spike had, over the last year or so, become not only a faithful patron but also what Willy liked to think of as a friend. And in his line of work, you had to take friends where you could find them. He knew that this was a bad day for the blond vampire and was most likely not going to get any better. He tried again. "Are you sure there's nothing I can get for you? Pretzels? Peanuts? I've got some chicken fingers in…" he let out a yelp as Spike sprang from his bar stool and grabbed him by the collar.

"No, Willy, there is nothing I want except to be left alone!" He realised that the smaller man was making frightened noises and he abruptly released him. "I'm sorry, mate, I never…" he trailed off, digging into his pocket. He came up with some dollar bills, put them on the bar in payment for the blood and silently left the bar.

Willy straightened his collar, picked up the phone and dialled. When the person on the other end answered, he said, "Its Willy. You might wanna go looking for a certain depressed vamp…"

Spike walked down the street, trying not to think. He had thought that maybe the Willy Special would have helped him to do just this just for a while, but he could still see her face.

Willow.

It had been a year since she had been lost to him. She had defeated Chalera but had forfeited her life in the bargain. He had lost her without ever having the chance to tell her how he really felt. She had died not knowing how important she was to his existence.

He hadn't been able to sleep a full night since it had happened, being in a strange state of awareness. What made it worse was that he would sometimes hear something or see something on the telly and he would think, I'll have to tell Willow that one; he would then realise that she was no longer there to tell, and the pain would begin again.

He looked up and found himself outside the gates of Restfield Cemetery, a place that had become almost a second home to him over the last year. He walked through the rows of graves, his steps echoing dissonantly in the silent night. He made his way to the grave he wanted and stopped, his hands in his pockets.

He read the inscription. "Willow Rosenberg 1980-2000 Beloved Friend. To her, there were no strangers - only people yet to meet." He touched the name reverently, missing the warmth and friendliness, which had been innately her. She had been the only one during those dark days after having the chip implanted, who had listened when he was feeling infuriated, and had understood that he had been scared and unsure of what he was going to do now, hiding it with anger.

"Why? Why did you do it Willow? We would have found another way," he cried out suddenly, still angry with her at giving up her life.

"She did it because of the person she was, Spike."

He spun around to see who had approached silently behind him. He saw the petite blond woman stood before him and grimaced. "I take it Willy called you?"

Buffy came and stood beside him, her hands in her pockets. "He was worried," she replied, speaking of the little bartender. "He knew that this was going to be a bad day for you. That's why he didn't deny you when you started on your third bottle," she added, smiling gently at the handsome vampire beside her.

It was only when she saw how Spike reacted to losing Willow that she had realised how deeply he had loved the redhead, and this had made them become good friends over the last year. She had been the one he had come to when he had felt most down, speaking of Willow and what effect she had had on all the people's lives she had touched. It was now, on the anniversary of Willow's death that the gang had known that he would be in need of them and she had been ready for the call for her to go to her friend's side.

He looked at her now and said angrily, "Buffy, I just need this one night on my own. It's been a year and I know that I don't seem to be getting over her…death…" he stumbled over the word "…but I know that I have to move on. Do you know the thing that hurts the most?" He didn't wait for her to answer and continued. "I hate the fact that I never got to tell her that I loved her. I mean, there's me over a hundred years old, been around death for most of that time, and I never really thought that death would be the way that I would lose her." He knew he was almost babbling, but he couldn't seem to stop. "And another thing, I am really pissed at her. How dare she take on the responsibility of killing herself to get rid of the demon? And don't look like that at me, Slayer," he added, seeing the compassionate look she was shooting his way. "Aren't you mad at her, really? I mean, she never…" he trailed off, too upset to continue.

Buffy wrapped her arms around him as he dry-sobbed against her, tears in her own eyes. She made soothing noises and slowly led him away from the cemetery to take him home. She never saw the mist that rose suddenly from nowhere behind them, too busy with a still-grieving Spike.

Giles sat up in bed suddenly, unsure of what had woken him from his deep sleep.

He looked at the clock beside his bed and saw that it was 2.15 in the morning. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, getting out of bed. He went to the window and looked about but could see nothing amiss out there. He was about to go back to bed when something - he didn't know what - made him look over the landing to where his living room was. At first, he couldn't see anything and then he heard it. It sounded like somebody sobbing.

He squinted to the dark corners of his living room and was shocked to make out a dark blob curled up against a wall. He put his glasses on and a bathrobe over his pyjamas. He then picked up a fighting axe, which hung on his bedroom wall.

He crept stealthily down the stairs, not taking his eyes off the dark figure shaking and sobbing by the wall. He put a hand out to the light switch and light flooded the room. "I can see…" He trailed off in horror. For there on the floor of his apartment, sat a naked girl, cowering from the light he had switched on.

He lowered his axe and quickly grabbed an afghan from the couch, unable to believe what he was seeing. Where had this girl come from? He hadn't been able to get a good look at her face yet, being hidden by a matt of what looked like dark wet hair. He approached her cautiously and put the afghan over her quickly, not getting too close so as not to frighten her any further.

"Can you hear me?" he asked gently. She shivered and recoiled from him again. "I won't hurt you," he added quietly, unsure of what to do.

She quietened slightly at the gentle voice and looked up at him and he got his first good look at her face. As she did so, he saw that her hair wasn't dark at all, as he had originally thought, and though it was matted with something, he could see quite clearly, now that he was closer to her, that it was actually red.

"Willow!" he breathed in shock.

"OK, G-Man, this better be good." Xander entered the ex-librarian's house without knocking, followed closely by a yawning Anya.

"Yes," she agreed. "I was in the middle of a very satisfying dream where I was having sex with…Xander," she added quickly, smiling sheepishly at her boyfriend when he glowered at her.

"Believe me, Xander, this is very good," Giles understated, ignoring the "G-Man" comment.

"So, is Buff getting the "up-in-the-middle-of-the-night" treatment as well, or are we just the lucky ones?" Xander asked, taking a seat on the couch next to Anya.

Giles opened his mouth to answer and the front door opened and Buffy and Riley walked in. Giles looked behind them and asked, "Where's Spike? I told you that he should be here too."

Buffy frowned at him. "I think Spike has had enough for today, I don't think he really wants to be around people at the moment," she added, to her mind closing the argument. "What are we here for anyway…" she trailed off as they heard the distinct sound of bedsprings creaking upstairs.

"Giles, you naughty boy. Is this what you bought us all here for, to show off your prowess in the arena of…hang on…eewwww," said Xander, thoroughly revolted at the thought.

"Thank you Xander, and that is what I have asked you all here for." He saw the looks of horror on their faces and hurried on, red-faced. "N-no, not that! I have someone upstairs that I think you will all want to see. I didn't know how to tell you, so I thought I'd better just show you. Now you all need to be very quiet," he added, looking at them sternly.

As he went upstairs, the other four stared at each other, mystified. Buffy sat down and Riley stood next to her, waiting to find out who Giles had upstairs.

Giles appeared on the stairs, pulling someone along with him, a very reluctant someone. He had to coax the person down the stairs. They heard him say, "Come on, you know that these are your friends, they won't hurt you."

They stood up as one as they saw the person he was bringing with him. Their mouths dropped open in accord with one another and said simultaneously, "Willow?!"

Buffy looked at Giles in shock. When she got her voice back, she asked, "How did this happen?" She couldn't believe that this woman stood cowering before them was their Willow.

Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them absentmindedly on his shirt. "I have no idea. She hasn't said a word to me, but she seems to be getting more comfortable with me now." He shrugged, baffled.

They all stared at Willow, as the reality of what had happened began to sink in. Buffy started to smile, tears forming in her eyes. "Willow?" she asked tentatively, reaching a hand out gingerly towards the woman before her.

Willow looked up at her from beneath her curtain of red hair. She grimaced and made a hoarse sound in her throat as though she was trying to get past the lump lodged there. "B-B-Buffy?" she said croakily.

Buffy's breath sobbed out in a gasp and she approached her friend, wrapping here arms around her, rocking slightly. Willow wept as she held tightly to her best friend, putting a hand on Buffy's hair, her fragile frame shaking.

They separated and Buffy led Willow to the couch, sitting down next to her, staring at her as though she were afraid that she would disappear. "Willow," she asked, still holding her hand, "What happened? Do you know?"

Willow cleared her throat and said tearfully, "I don't remember anything. The last thing I remember is helping your mom sort through inventory for the gallery. She gave me a necklace. Why do I feel like this Buffy? How did I end up in Giles' apartment?" she asked, her face crumpling.

Buffy shook her head, baffled. "I really think we need to have a talk, Will," she said, patting the other girl's knee. She looked at Giles and he shrugged, not knowing what to say to lessen the other girl's pain.

"Shut up, Anya," said Buffy, seeing the other girl open her mouth to make a typical "Anya" comment.

Giles interrupted before things could go any further. "Perhaps the best thing to do would be for Buffy to take Willow to your dorm room. Familiar surrounding, perhaps?" he suggested.

Buffy stood up decisively and nodded her head. "Yeah, maybe you could have a nap as well," she suggested to Willow. "Maybe you'll feel a little better after a rest," she added, totally unsure how to progress here.

She and Riley got up, and shepherded Willow out the door to where Riley car waited.

As she went out the door, she said to Giles, "I'll let you know if she remembers anything."

The remaining people in Giles' apartment looked at each other in the silence, unsure of what was going to happen next.

Willow picked up a photo, which stood on Buffy's bedside table. It was a picture of all of them - the Scooby gang - that had been taken just over a year ago.

Willow remembered when the picture had been taken - they were all stood in Buffy's backyard, having a barbecue. She recalled Spike throwing a fit because it was to be held during the day, so that immediately excluded him from attending. As it had been summer, they had, in the end, held the event in the evening so that he could attend as well.

She hadn't told anyone, but she had spent most of the evening surreptitiously watching the blonde vampire, drawn inexorably to him. Spike had, over time talked to her about the chip and she had known that he was feeling insecure at his place in the world now that he was no longer able to maim and kill. They had spent long hours, sometimes talking when early morning came and he had to quickly run to his crypt before sunrise.

She hadn't even told Buffy about these sojourns of theirs. It had all felt so new and, she would admit that she was afraid that if she admitted to her feelings for him then he would be taken from her.

She jumped as she felt a hand descend on her shoulder. She turned to see Buffy holding a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. She put the photo back down and took the drink from her friend, sitting on the bed opposite Buffy. "Buffy, where are my things?" she asked, noticing for the first time that there didn't seem to be anything hers around there. In fact, as she touched the coverlet on the bed she was sitting on, she realised that this wasn't the usual afghan that she slept under.

Buffy sat for a moment on her bed, unsure of what to say. "Will, do you remember anything about that necklace that my mom gave to you?" she began, referring to the Talisman of Bokór.

Willow frowned for a moment and put her cup on the bedside table. "Well, yeah, of course I do. She only gave it me yesterday…does she want it back, 'cause if she does, I-I'm not too sure where I put it…" she explained.

Buffy shook her head and moved to sit next to Willow. She took the redhead's hands in hers and said solemnly, "Will, all that happened a year ago."

Willow looked at Buffy disbelievingly. What did she mean, a year ago? She frowned at Buffy, feeling dangerously as though she were about to break. "A year? Buffy, I'm sure I would remember if I had been in limbo for the last year…"

Buffy shook her head, not altogether sure what to say. How did you tell someone that they have been dead for the last year? She was about to open her mouth to attempt to explain, when the door crashed open behind her.

She turned around to see a frenzied blond standing in the doorway. Spike stood there, looking in shock at the pair sat on the bed. He shook his head in disbelief.

"Slayer, what the Hell is going on?" he asked harshly, unable to take his eyes from Willow.

Buffy got up from the bed and walked over to him. She knew just what he was feeling. "Now Spike…" she began, reaching out to him.

"Spike?" asked Willow weakly. "I remember…" She looked at him, horrified. Seeing Spike bought back the memories and her eyes widened in terror. She looked at Buffy, wide eyed. "Buffy, I died. I remember it now. The pain and…it was so cold and lonely. I remember calling out to…you," she faltered for a moment and then continued, "and you weren't there. I was alone. I was so afraid," she added, her face crumpling.

Buffy went back to the crying girl on the bed and wrapped her arms tightly around her. Spike looked on, still unable to take it in. Just a few hours ago, he had been grieving for this woman, and now here she was…alive. He put a hand to his head, totally baffled. And yes, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone else, relieved beyond description.

He started to smile as it began to sink in that Willow was actually alive. He leaned against the wall for a moment before approaching the women sat on the bed. He put a hand out and noticed almost hysterically that it was shaking.

He touched Willow's hair lightly to check if it was real. He had had this dream too many times in the past year and he wanted to make sure that this wasn't one of those.

Willow stiffened slightly and pulled back from Buffy, looking up almost fearfully at Spike. It was that fear that made Spike fall back in shock. And yes, he could admit it; there was anger in him too. Anger that she would pull back from him and anger that she was back and there didn't seem to be an explanation for it.

He clenched his fists at his side and looked at the Slayer, seeming to ignore Willow completely. "Well, Buffy, what is it? What happened, and why is she back?"

Buffy grimaced, knowing what the vampire must be going through. "We don't know what happened, Spike," she answered for what seemed like the umpteenth time. They were interrupted by the sound of the bedsprings creaking. They looked at Willow rocking backwards and forwards on the bed, tears streaming down her face.

"Will, what is it?" asked Buffy, concerned. She went to put a hand on the other girl's shoulder and drew back slightly when she flinched from her.

"Buffy, I killed that man. And I enjoyed it," Willow said shakily. She shook her head frantically in denial. "How could I have done that?" she asked, crying.

Buffy shook her head slightly. What could she say to someone who has just found out that she murdered someone? "It wasn't you, Will," she said.

Willow shook her head in denial. "I could feel the fear that the man felt as the life drained out of him. There was nothing I could do to stop Chalera from killing him…I killed him," she added, quickly running past Buffy and Spike as they stood frozen in the doorway.

Willow ran as though the hounds of Hell were after her. She ran down the stairs of the dorm and found herself outside the college. She stopped, breathing heavily and sobbing. She heard the door open behind her and looked back to see Buffy and Spike emerge from the building, looking for her. She quickly ran out of view and stood against the wall in the shadows of the privets, which surrounded the building.

She held her breath as they passed close by, calling her name. She put a hand to her mouth to stop the sounds of her sobbing surfacing. She leaned heavily against the wall and slid down it as the full enormity of what was happening hit her.

She had been dead for the last year.

She huddled in the darkness, bringing her knees up to her chin, as thoughts of all that Buffy had told her blasted through her mind. Why had she been bought back? _Who_ had bought her back?

A shadow fell over her and she looked up, her face growing pale as she saw who stood there. She backed up in fear, the tears drying as she stared in shock.

"Hello, Willow. It's been a long time." The figure stood before her reached out a hand and Willow took it shakily, allowing herself to be picked up. Willow kept holding the hand, which had been offered and squeezed it.

"Have I gone mad? Is that why I don't remember anything for the last year? Is that why I'm seeing someone who died over 2 years ago? Did Buffy really just say what she did, or am I just having a psychotic episode?" she asked, beginning to get hysterical. She stared as the figure came into the light and she saw that it was indeed…Jenny Calendar.

Jenny frowned slightly. "No. I was sent because They thought that you would be more accepting if I were to talk to you."

"Accepting?" Willow asked, laughing slightly hysterically. "My best friend tells me that I've been dead for the last year and I'm seeing a ghost, and you expect me to accept it? Cool," she added sarcastically.

Jenny shook her head, smiling gently. "They thought you could handle it. They wouldn't have sent you back otherwise."

"Who is 'They'?" Willow asked, calming slightly in the shadow of that gentle smile.

Jenny smiled. "The Powers that Be. You were sent back for a very good reason. There is something that you have to do. You shouldn't have died when you defeated Chalera, Willow," she added.

Willow frowned in confusion, her natural curiosity getting the better of her.

"What reason?" she asked.

Jenny shook her head in reply. "You'll find out in good time. Just believe that you were meant to return. You need your friends. And Spike will be a large part of it. " She reached a hand out to Willow and they were enveloped in dark shadow.

"No!" denied Willow. "I need more than that…" She broke off as everything went black…and sat up in her bed back in the dorm.

She looked around her but could not see Jenny anywhere. She held a hand to her chest and could feel her rapidly beating heart. She looked at the telephone beside the bed and picked up the receiver, dialling a number she remembered by heart.

"Giles, it's me. Is Buffy there? No, I'm fine." She paused for a moment as Giles said something to someone in the background. She interrupted him. "Giles, I'm OK, I just freaked a bit. Could you say sorry to Buffy for me, and that I need to talk to her?"

She waited as she heard him talking to Buffy and heard Spike's deep tones as well. She nodded as Giles came back to the phone and told her that Buffy would be home in a few minutes. She said goodbye and put the phone down.

She looked around her and took her breath. She had to tell Buffy what had just happened. She knew that it had happened, or Buffy would have still been here, talking to her. But could she trust her own perceptions? If what Buffy said was true, then she could be imagining it all.

She walked over to the mirror hanging on the wall and looked at herself. "Don't lose it, girl," she muttered, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. As she looked away, she caught a faint glimpse of Jenny Calendar's gently smiling face, but when she looked back, all she could see was her frightened face, pale and taut.

She sat back on her bed and waited for Buffy to arrive.

"Well, what am I supposed to say to her?" Buffy asked, sitting beside Spike as he drove them both to the girls' dorm.

Spike took a drag of the cigarette he was holding as he drove. He was still finding it hard to think rationally about what had happened. "You're a good friend, Buffy. Just be there for her."

Buffy ignored him and sat there with her thoughts. It was hard to accept that her friend was back. And to be truthful, she was a little resentful.

Not that she would ever admit to anyone else, would only face it in the darkest recesses of her mind. As Spike had said earlier, she had found it hard to accept that Willow had just allowed herself to make the sacrifice that she had. There had to be have been another way to defeat Chalera, but Willow had taken it upon herself to make the decision. She had thought that they had been friends long enough that she would have thought about what losing her would have done to them.

She knew deep down that Willow had done what had needed to be done, and she could accept that. But in the darker recesses of her mind, she had been dealing with the selfish thought that she had had to deal with a lot over the last year on her own, and having her best friend around might have made it a little easier on her. She shook her head a little, trying to rid herself of her evil thoughts.

Spike looked at the Slayer beside him and found that although she should have been his arch-nemesis, he could imagine the thoughts which were going round in her head, because they were also going round his.

He was feeling an almost luminescent sense of happiness that Willow had been returned to them, but also an uncontrollable fear that as long as they didn't know why she had been returned to them, that she could be taken from him again.

They pulled up in front of the dorm and got out of the car. Buffy took a deep breath and went to go inside, stopping short as she realized that spike was about to follow her. "Do you really think this is a good idea, Spike?"

Spike looked at her, incredulous. "I am going in there with you, Slayer," he told her hardly.

Buffy looked at him sympathetically. "I know this is hard," she said softly, "but we have to think of Willow right now, and what she is feeling. We can't afford to be selfish." She looked at him steadily and buried the uncharitable thoughts she had had earlier, deep within herself, where no-one would know about them.

Spike was about to argue when he realized that what she was saying was true, and as much as it might hurt to leave her, he had to think of Willow now. He trusted the Slayer to help her best friend. He looked at her intently and said, "If she needs anything, you come to me, Buffy," he said.

She nodded. She looked at Spike as he left. She straightened her shoulders and walked up the steps, which led into the dorms. She walked up the corridor, all the time wondering what to say. She paused outside their dorm room, took a deep breath and opened the door.

Her eyes adjusted rapidly to the brightness in the room. She looked over and saw Willow sitting on her bed. She had been expecting to see her crying but she was in fact perusing her favourite spell book, which Buffy had not had the heart to get rid of.

She looked up at Buffy and smiled. Buffy looked at her, relieved to see that she appeared to be like the friend that she had lost a year ago. She could feel tears well in her eyes. Willow opened her arms to her best friend and she ran into them, sobbing as she was enfolded in the familiar scent of her best friend. "I've missed you, Will," she choked.

Willow ran a hand over the blond head at her breast. "I'm back now," she said.

Both of them were too content at the moment to question why that was.

The gang was back together again. They were assembled at the Magic Shop, poring over the selection, which Giles had assembled on the table at the back.

Xander was looking through an old book, Anya sitting next to him, looking through a book of her own. Buffy was pacing up and down the shop, her research skills self-admittedly almost non-existent.

Willow sat at the side of the table, slightly away from the others, trying not to notice that they were surreptitiously watching her.

When she and Buffy had got to the shop, things had been tense to begin with. The others had been uncomfortable, but then they had got down to the task of trying to find out what or who had bought Willow back. She had told them all what had happened to her, uncomfortable as she wondered how Giles reacted to the mention of Jenny Calendar. However, he had been fine, had in fact, seemed very open to the suggestion that his dead ex-girlfriend had been talking to Willow from beyond the grave. What a difference 3 years will make, she thought.

She looked up as the side door hurriedly opened and a blond vampire entered.

She looked at Spike surreptitiously as he flopped into a seat opposite her. He was dressed as he always was – a black pair of jeans, black shirt and long black leather overcoat. It's a good job he has a non-existent body temperature, she thought, or he would have melted by now. He suddenly got up and abruptly approached her. Her eyes fell quickly to the book she was looking in.

As he got closer, she could smell him. She could smell the aftershave he wore, but it didn't disguise the pure maleness of him. She had been back for nearly a week now, and this was only the second time she had seen him, but she could remember vividly the feelings being near him evoked within her.

When she had been with him, she had felt that there was only the two of them in the world. She thought back to the many conversations that they had had in the past. To begin with, he had, she thought, took a great amount of enjoyment from their heated arguments, and had therefore purposely instigated them.

Spike leaning over her bought her out of her reverie. She flinched slightly as he ran a finger up her arm. She glanced at him in shock. He smirked slightly and picked up a book, which was at her elbow. She went bright red as he turned and sat back down. She picked up the book she was looking at and hid her face.

"Ah ha!" Giles suddenly let out a crow of triumph as he lifted a hand in the air, making them all jump.

They looked at him as he said, "I think I've found it. This book makes reference to the witch who will return from a place dark and lonely to stop the evil one. I must cross-reference this with the Council," he said distractedly, getting up and going over to the phone.

"What, now?" asked Buffy. "Don't you think you should tell us a bit more about this, Giles?"

"You don't understand, Buffy. If Willow is the one to whom this book refers, then quick action must be taken. This book is one of the three tomes which foretells the prophecy of the Drackar, the demon who will bring about the end of the world."

Buffy looked at him skeptically. How many times had she heard that one? She said so to her Watcher.

Giles shook his head emphatically. He didn't have time for this. He ignored Buffy and went over to the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. He waited a while and then said, "Quentin Travers, please." He waited while he was put through.

While he spoke to them, the others sat around and stared at each other. Spike stood up suddenly and picked up the book, which Giles had left on the table. He sat back down and began to read where Giles had just finished. He knew of the book – of course he did – there weren't many beings in the demon world that didn't. But he hadn't expected to ever be as close to one of them as he was now.

"What does it say?" a voice quietly asked him. He looked up and saw that Willow had come to stand by him. "You know what it is, don't you?" she asked.

He tried to pretend that he wasn't deeply disturbed by this. "No, I'm just feeling nosy – why should the Watcher be the only one to get to look?"

Willow wasn't buying any of it. She had still been watching him when Giles had dropped his bombshell and had seen the look of alarm on Spike's face as he saw the book, which Giles was reading from. "Don't give me that. What do you know?" she insisted. She had a right to know.

Their quiet conversation had drawn the attention of the others and Anya said, "What's going on?"

Spike tried to shrug it off. He didn't want to worry any of them, especially Willow. "Nothing. I just wanted to know what Rupes was looking at."

Buffy opened her mouth to grill him further, but was interrupted when Giles said into the telephone receiver, "Thank you Quentin. Could you get back to me as soon as you can? Thanks. Speak to you soon. Bye." He hung up and stood for a moment still holding the receiver in its cradle.

He turned around and looked at them all still sat at the table. He didn't know how he was supposed to tell them all that, though they had just got her back, they would soon lose Willow again.

"Giles, what did he say?" asked Buffy, unable to wait another moment.

He took a deep breath and sat down at the table. He saw that Spike had the book and was immediately wary when he looked into the vampire's eyes. He saw there that Spike already knew what he, Giles, would have to tell them. "As I said before, this book is one of three, and foretells of the coming of a great warrior witch, who would have to fight the Drackar, a beast which was formed to smite the Earth and decimate the virtuous."

Buffy frowned. "But wouldn't it be better for me to face this Drackar? I mean, Slayer here!"

Giles shook his head. "The prophecy is very specific. It is only for the witch to face the Drackar. It states quite categorically, that if the Slayer faces the Drackar, she will be the one to die, but would still fail to stop the beast. I've read this book numerous times before, but I never understood why it mentioned the Slayer in relation. Stupid!" he chastised himself angrily, pacing again.

Willow dragged the book over and looked at what was written there. It was written in Latin. She looked at the words, slowly reading what Giles had read to them earlier. She looked up at Giles as he began another round of pacing. "Giles, do you think this is what I'm back for?" she asked.

Giles looked at the hope in Willow's eyes – hope that he would say no. He pursed his lips, irritated at fate for doing this to her; and to him, for having to be the one to tell her. "I'm afraid it does look that way, Willow."

A sick feeling of fear made Willow take a deep breath. "Well. At least I'm back for a good reason, huh?" she said lightly, trying to make a joke of it.

None of the others were fooled. "What is going to happen?" asked Buffy, sure that Giles knew more than what he was saying.

Spike scowled at Giles. "Yeah, Rupert, tell them everything. Tell them that even if Willow does defeat the beast, then she still dies. She has to die to kill it."

Xander frowned in concern. "What do you mean, she has to die? We're the good guys here – we defeat the baddies, but we don't die if we do!" He seemed to have forgotten that Willow had already done exactly that.

"What aren't you telling me, Giles?" asked Willow. "If I'm going to do this, I need to know everything."

"What's to understand?" asked Spike incredulously. "You're not doing it, and that's final! I've only just…" he trailed off, biting his tongue to hold back the words.

Buffy grimaced in sympathy, knowing what the vampire must be going through. She felt something akin to it herself – Willow was her sister in everything but blood. "As much as we don't want to hear this, Spike, it's really up to Willow to make that decision."

"What the Hell? Are you people brain-dead, or something? You're spouting on about it being her choice; what's the use of having a choice if you're dead?" he asked harshly.

Willow was slowly becoming angry. "OK, Spike, so what is it? You think I can't do it, is that it? If you know how I'm going to die, then if you tell me, I can change it."

Spike glared at her, unable to believe she was even contemplating this. "What's the difference – you won't be any less dead!"

"Yeah, so…" Willow trailed off uncertainly. "Takes one to know one!" she said, goaded.

"What the Hell does that mean?" he asked. "If you do this, Willow, you are going to die. There's no way of getting round it. You will die. The beast can only be killed with your blood. There has to be a blood-letting to destroy it. Are you really ready to die, again?" he finished angrily.

She felt the words down to the depths of her soul, their effect worse having come from him. "I don't know why you're so bothered," she said harshly to cover her hurt. "It's not like you're really one of us. I'm sure you never shed any tears last time I died."

There was silence around the room as Spike and Willow looked at each other. He grimaced in distaste for a second, in that moment almost hating her. "I guess that's just the sort of comment I should expect from a selfish bitch who killed herself rather than work with her friends," he said, referring to the Chalera incident. "You never gave a thought to how your death would affect anyone else, did you? No, you just had to be the martyr. Fine. You want to do it this time then you go ahead and die. I'm certainly not going to mourn you." With that, he got up angrily from the table, and left the shop, not caring that he had dropped his chair in the process.

The remaining people sat in silence, trying not to notice as Willow's bottom lip quivered betrayingly. She bit her bottom lip and said huskily, "I'm feeling tired. I'll see you back at the dorm, Buffy." She stood up and walked out of the shop, her dignified departure a stark contrast to that of Spike.

Willow brushed away a tear as she ran, not knowing what direction she was going in. She somehow found her way to Weatherly Park, blinded by her tears.

She took a seat at the first bench she came across, taking a handkerchief from her pocket. She sniffled into it for a while, unable to believe that she had been so cruel to Spike.

Since she had had what she referred to as the 'visitation' from Ms Calendar, she had been trying to come to terms with what had happened the previous year, and Giles' discovery had seemed to be the explanation for why she was back. When Spike had begun to say that she couldn't do it, she had been hurt that he didn't have faith in her ability to perform the task. The thought never entered her head that he had been concerned for her.

But no matter how she had felt hurt, she knew that she shouldn't have said to Spike what she had. Buffy had intimated in the last week that Spike had been affected by her death, and had helped them get through the worst of their grief. She would go and see Spike and apologise. She wiped her eyes with her hanky, trying to pluck up the courage to do just that, so she never noticed the lone figure that was lurking in the shadows under a large oak tree near to her.

She sniffed sadly and cried out suddenly as a hand grabbed her from behind by the throat and yanked her backwards over the bench. She hit the ground with a thud, the breath knocked from her lungs. A weight was suddenly on top of her, hands around her throat, choking her.

She looked up in terror at the demonic visage of the vampire who was lying on top of her. She coughed, clawing at his hands where they were cutting off her air supply. "Hey babe, not a problem. He didn't say how he wanted you dead – he just said to kill ya!" the demon snarled. She didn't have time to wonder about what he was saying because he let up slightly on her throat and she took a much needed breath of air, only to have it arrest in horror as she saw his head bend toward her exposed throat.

She shrieked in pain as she felt his fangs penetrate her vulnerable flesh. As she began to lose consciousness, the thought entered her head that she wouldn't get to apologise to Spike after all. She struggled feebly, getting weaker. As she did so, she saw something move swiftly out of the corner of her eye, dimly feeling the vampire's weight suddenly lift from her.

She heard faintly the scuffle as the vampire was dusted. For a moment, she thought that Buffy had followed her from the Magic Box and said croakily, "Buffy…" As she lost consciousness, she saw Spike's angry, concerned face appear in front of her face. He said something, and she tried to reply, but couldn't find the energy to…

She stirred slightly, her eyes opening to slits. She looked around at her surroundings and saw that she was lying in a bed she didn't recognise. There were crimson curtains at the window, shutting out the light of day, which her pained head was grateful for. As she moved slightly, she groaned, feeling the burning at her throat. She sat up quickly, the events of the night before coming back to her. She put a hand on her chest, relieved to feel the strong beat of her heart.

"Don't worry, you're not dead. Though the Slayer will be when I get hold of her," Spike said grimly, coming into the room, carrying a glass of clear liquid in his hand.

"What happened?" she asked, ashamed, remembering what she had said to him at Giles' shop.

"Well, that's a good question. When I came upon you, you were being a midnight snack for one of the local minions. What in the bloody Hell was the Slayer thinking, letting you go out on your own at that time of night?" he asked angrily, putting the glass of water on the bedside table for her.

She bit her bottom lip. "I just left. She didn't have any say in the matter." When he opened his mouth, she added defensively, "I am over 18 you know."

"Well, if I hadn't come on the scene, you would have been a dead over-18," he said harshly, taking a cigarette and lighting it. He took a deep drag, staring at her narrowly through the smoke. She was looking at him as though he were about to jump on her. "It's OK, you know. I don't want to get in your knickers," he sneered. He was still shaking from the shock of seeing her under the vampire. He had really thought she was going to die and the last thing he would have said to her, would have been words of anger.

She flushed. "I never thought you did."

"Yeah, yeah," Spike said, sitting in the chair opposite her, staring at her broodingly.

Willow began to grow nervous as she saw that he wasn't going to say anything else. "Can I get up now?"

"I'm not stopping you, am I?"

Willow huffed. "I can't go very far dressed like this, can I?" she asked tartly. She flushed again, this time with anger. "Where are my clothes? You didn't have to undress me, did you?" she asked him jerkily, the realisation finally beginning to sink in that all she had on were her bra and underskirt.

Spike got up and she jumped at the sudden movement. He smirked, seeing the betraying movement. "You were bleeding into your t-shirt, if you must know. Oh, please, girl, like I haven't got better things to do with my time than ogle unconscious girls who have the bodies of a 10-year-old boy. Not my kind at all," he added tauntingly, grinding his finished cigarette butt in an ashtray. He waited, watching her, feeling again the fear he had experienced when he saw the younger vampire feeding from her. Anger rushed through him.

He had killed the younger vampire, and had been only concerned for Willow's welfare as he had picked her up to take her to safety. It was then that he had smelt the blood, and a wave of bloodlust had rushed through him; his demon had come to the surface as it inhaled the sweet scent of her life's blood. He had looked at the inviting curve of her neck as she lay defenceless in his arms and he had known a hunger to rival that of his first kill over a hundred years before. His vampiric visage had emerged for a moment, only to be forced back under his iron control as he had come to his senses and realised that she could still die if he didn't get the wound seen to as soon as possible.

Willow's bottom lip wobbled for a moment, and he was afraid that she was about to cry. However, when he was about to approach her to comfort her, her shoulders straightened and she got what The Moron called her 'resolve face'. His mouth went dry as she defiantly pushed back the bed clothes and angrily put her feet on the floor.

Her defiance was extinguished however, when her already pale complexion went the colour of pasteurised milk. She put a hand out as spots danced rapidly in front of her eyes.

Spike growled as he ran to her, supporting her as she nearly fainted. He put her back on the bed, his normally full lips a disapproving thin line. "What the Hell are you doing? You've lost a lot of blood."

In her confused state, her head light from the loss of blood, her inhibitions seemed to have suddenly gone along with the lost blood. She put a hand weakly up to his face, touching his full bottom lip gently. "You know, Spike, I always wanted to know what kind of kisser you were. When you kidnapped Xander and I, I thought, 'yeah this is it – I'm gonna finally know.' If you'd have been there," she added looking at him seductively from beneath lowered lids, "it wouldn't have been Xander I ended up kissing." With that, she puckered her lips and pressed them to his cold ones.

He pulled back for a second, knowing that as soon as she had her senses back, she would be mortified that she had kissed him. But a frisson of pleasure rushed through him and he crushed her to him, plundering her warm lips with his frigid ones.

She lifted her arms and placed them around his neck as their kiss deepened. I can't believe this is actually happening, she thought hazily to herself.

His hands roamed freely, touching her as he had always wanted to. Feeling her warm skin, soft amid silky beneath his fingers, he breathed in the scent of her. Ripping his mouth from hers suddenly, he looked down at her. Her eyes were closed dreamily and her mouth was open slightly, moist from their kissing. Growling with lust, he picked her up and placed her back on the bed, following her. He moved, so that the only things separating them were the clothes that he was wearing.

He ferociously kissed her again, biting slightly at her bottom lip, groaning, as he tasted the sweetness of her. Grabbing roughly at him, her hands roved up and down his back and arms.

"It's not enough," she panted. "I want to feel you." she snarled. Grasping the bottom of his t-shirt she gave it a tough yank, trying to get her point across.

"Not a problem, Red," he muttered, getting to his feet, ripping both his shirt and jeans off without a modicum of fuss. Before she had chance to see anything much, he was back beside her on the bed, tearing her underskirt and bra in his haste to get them off her.

When they were both naked, he grasped her to him roughly, moving them across the bed, their mouths melded together.

"I can't believe this is really happening," Willow gasped as she felt him moving heatedly against her, touching her everywhere she had ever imagined he would, the breath suspended in her throat as he moved again and she looked at his face in its true demonic form,

They both stilled as she slowly lifted a hand to his face. "Beautiful," she murmured, stroking his forehead gently. He bared his teeth and she saw his sharp fangs, but strangely felt no fear.

As he moved again and the crescendo of pleasure increased, she saw his mouth open as his head slowly got closer to her neck. He inhaled deeply for a moment, licking the healing wound. His pupils dilated, as he tasted the sweet bitterness of her blood.

Feeling strange at the feelings of pleasure this evoked, she grabbed his head and held it so she could look at his face. His eyes were yellow and his lips were coated in her blood.

He looked at her and thought that she had never looked more beautiful. She was flushed and her eyelids were heavy, as though it was an extreme effort to keep them open

He swooped down again and caught her lips with his. She tasted him but she also tasted her own blood on her lips. Rather than being revolted by this, she felt the exhilaration run through her body, causing the pleasure to rise. She gritted her teeth as the full power of her completion ran through her.

She saw his face and watched him as he also reached completion. He snarled, head thrown back.

As he collapsed on her, she held the back of his head, her breath coming in broken gasps She couldn't believe what she had just done. It was just not like her to act like this. Although in all honesty, she couldn't say that she regretted her actions, She stroked his pale hair as she looked back on what she had just done.

With Spike

Her hand stilled on his head as the fill realisation of what had just happened hit her. She had wanted this for so long, and now that it had, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she couldn't get out of her head, the image of Buffy's face if she were to walk in now.

Her eyes clouded with worry and she never noticed as Spike lifted his head to look at her.

"What is it, love?" he asked, lazily running one hand lightly up her arm, smiling slightly at her involuntary shiver.

"Nothing," she said, hiding her eyes from him.

He was silent for a second and his hand stopping at her shoulder suddenly. He lifted her face and he frowned at what he saw there. "Do you regret what we just did, Willow?" he asked, his mouth turning down at the corners with displeasure.

"It's not that," she hastened to reassure him, as she saw the storm clouds gathering in his eyes.

"Well what is it?" he growled. "There is no way you can say to me that you didn't just love what we did."

She shook her head. How could she explain to him that what they had just done was the best thing that had ever happened to her? There was no way she could tell him that she loved him and always had. She stared at him and panic filled her at what she should say to him.

While he was still sitting up in bed, Willow rolled quickly out of bed and picked tip her clothes from the floor. 'Where are you going?" he asked, standing up, naked as the day he was born.

She averted her eyes from his nakedness and pulled her skirt on, her face flaming in embarrassment. "I just have to go," she mumbled.

"You're not going anywhere until we've sorted this out," he scowled. He didn't know what had suddenly happened but she was going nowhere until they had talked about it. After what they had just shared there was no way they were going to part company on bad terms.

"I've got to get out of here," she said desperately.

He quickly got between her and the door before she could leave, he took her roughly by the arms and snarled, "I think we've had enough of the touch-feely nonsense. You're going to tell me what's wrong, and you're going to tell me now."

She struggled in his tight grasp, hut to no avail, he was just too strong. "Spike, let me go!" she said, starting to panic.

He suddenly let her go and she stood in shock for a moment, unable to fully comprehend that she was free and that Spike was sitting on the floor.

She looked around and came face to face with an angry Buffy.

"Spike, what the Hell do you think you're doing?" asked Buffy, outraged, hands clenched in fists at her sides.

Spike rubbed his sore back. Buffy had knocked him flat on his ass, and his aggressive mood had left him at pretty much the same time.

'Well, love what can I say? She wants me," he said snidely, stinging from the pain of having Willow turning away from him after what they had just done.

"Oh no I don't!" shouted Willow. "I don't know what the Hell I was thinking." With that, she grabbed her overcoat and pushed past a stunned Buffy. "And it wasn't that great, stud," she snarled over her shoulder. "I've had better!'

In the stunned silence that followed the red head's departure, Spike grimaced realising too late that he had pushed Willow into a corner. "I know, Slayer. I'm an arse," he mumbled.

Deflated, Buffy looked at the dejected heap on the floor. "What happened here? Or do I need to ask?" she asked, arching a brow, her protective instincts at bay, for a moment at least.

Serious for a moment, Spike got up, pulling a sheet from the bed, covering his nakedness as Buffy blushed. "I didn't mean anything to happen yet, Buffy. I just couldn't help myself. I saved her last night and when she was hurt, I was just afraid that I would lose her again before I could tell her how I felt."

''Really?" drawled Buffy. Suddenly, she was seeing the humour in the situation. The former Big Bad was stammering like a little kid... "What did you say? She was hurt? What did you do to her?" she demanded, grabbing him roughly by the arms.

Suddenly angry, he pushed her toughly out of his way, feeling the exploding pain in his head "Dammit," he muttered, holding his head. "I would never hurt her. As a matter of fact, I came across her late last night being fed on by an idiot minion. And what were you doing, letting her leave the magic shop alone at that time of night?" he added, glaring at her harshly.

Buffy pursed her lips, holding hack the harsh words which immediately sprung to them, knowing that an argument was just what Spike wanted. And she knew that as much as she enjoyed verbally sparring with the chipped vampire, no good would come of it. "Spike," she said as patiently as she could, "bickering at me isn't going to make this go away. You need to make this right with Willow. There's nothing I can do," she added quietly.

Spike shook his head, knowing that the slayer was right, "What do I do? How do I make this right?"

Buffy said simply, "You need to talk to her. Tell her how you feel," she added impatiently.

Spike squared his shoulders and said decisively, "I need to stop acting like a total wanker and find her. Any idea where she would have gone?'

"Probably to Giles'. Are you sure that this is what you want to do?" she asked, wondering now about the wisdom of approaching Willow in the state in which she had just left.

"I've got to Buffy" he suddenly remembered what his vampire hearing had picked up earlier that night. "And I've got to go now. I've just remembered what the vamp who attacked her, said. He insinuated that someone had told him to attack Willow. I've got to find her before anything else happens," he added desperately, quickly putting his shirt on.

Buffy listened attentively as he explained further and after a lot of arguing, Spike agreed that there wasn't going to be much he could do, as the sun was just starting to rise. Watching the Slayer go out alone, but not liking it, he began to pace the room, waiting impatiently for the Slayer to call when she found her friend.

Willow opened her eyes and looked around her groggily. The room was in darkness, so the few things she could see were shrouded in shadows.

She lay on the only piece of furniture, an uncomfortable bed. She tried to move and realised that her hands and feet were shackled to each corner of the bed.

She had run from Spike's apartment, bewildered at what had just taken place. Preoccupied, she hadn't noticed that someone was stalking her through the shadows, until she had felt a sharp blow to the head, then nothing.

She looked above at her hands and tried to pull them free but to no avail. As she tried to move her feet, she found a similar problem.

She took a deep breath and tried to relax, knowing that there was nothing she could do. As she breathed in, she jumped. Frowning, she tried to listen again for what had startled her.

"When does he arrive?" came a clear voice from outside.

"He'll be here shortly," came another voice, gruffer than the first. "He was very pleased when I told him we finally have the witch."

"What exactly does the ritual entail?" asked the first voice.

"As usual, the first thing is the letting of the blood, ceremonial figures drawn on the body with the blood, then it's head must be removed and burned," the dark-voiced minion finished, a blood-thirsty pleasure evident in his voice. It was easy to discern that he liked his work.

She listened, horrified at what she was hearing and how she was hearing it – even in her position, she could tell the door was made of metal and likely a few inches thick.

Her breathing coming in shallow gasps, panicking and feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins like wildfire, she renewed her efforts for escape. Pulling desperately on the shackles, she ignored the pain caused as the tough leather chafed the tender skin on her wrists.

Having visions of her skin being ripped off her body in the ceremony, she was shocked to see a bright blue light begin to emanate from her hands. As she watched, petrified, the light slowly enveloped her entire body.

When the light faded, she felt slightly cool at the wrists and ankles and was shocked to see that where before there had been rigid leather, there was now ice. Horrified, she yanked her arm once and the brittle ice shattered effortlessly. Looking at her wrists, she saw that the abrasions caused by yanking on the shackles, had completely disappeared.

After breaking the ice encasing her ankles, she shakily got off the bed, her legs trembling beneath her. Moving swiftly to the door, she was relieved to hear the sound of the minions' feet fading as they disappeared down the hall.

Pushing away the feelings of shock, she tried the door and found to her surprise that it opened. They must not think that I'm awake yet, she thought, opening the door cautiously. Peering down the corridor, she saw that the minions had both disappeared, obviously not worried about her chances for escape.

She stepped out of the room, and walked down the corridor, shaking with both nerves and the after-effects of the knock on the head. She came to the top of some stairs, and not hearing anything down there, she thought OK, down means out, so she walked tentatively down them.

"Hey, stop!" came a voice from the room to the right of her. Horrified, she looked in that direction and saw a group of about eight demons heading straight for her.

Running toward the door, she saw with a sinking heart that she was just too far away. There was no way that she was going to reach the door before the minions reached her. Crying out in pain, she felt a swift tug on the back of her hair. Spun around by the force of her rapid stop, she lifted a hand and was stunned to see the demon that had grabbed her, along with his fellow minions, go flying through the air.

Sobbing, not believing what she had done, she turned and opened the door, running out into the night. Her breath gasping in her throat, she saw that she was on Sycamore Street, which was just a few blocks from Buffy's house. Turning in that direction, she stumbled down the road, praying all the time that the minions weren't following. Looking behind her as she went, she realised that they weren't.

Her mind carefully blank, she turned on to Revello Drive, limping down the street, her body having long since lost the rush of adrenaline that had got her out of the house at high speed. Gasping, she saw with relief that Buffy's house was in front of her.

"Willow!" cried Spike, catching Willow as she fell through the entry.

"Something has got to be done," Buffy was saying, stridently. "Somebody obviously knows what she was sent back for. This has got to stop, Giles." Xander was nodding his head in agreement at what the Slayer was saying.

Willow groaned, groggily opening her eyes, not hearing Giles' muffled response. "Buffy," she started, not having chance to finish, as she noticed Spike sitting beside her.

She woke up fully, realising she was lying on the sofa in Buffy's living room. She looked at Spike, surprised and still a little ashamed at the way that she had behaved toward him earlier. Looking into his eyes, she realised with wonder that they were filling with tears. She lifted a hand to his eyes, and he grasped it strongly, kissing the palm. She gasped and Buffy looked across at them, noticing immediately that Willow was now awake.

"Will, are you OK?" she asked, walking over to them.

Dragging her eyes away from Spike's, Willow looked at Buffy and saw the concerned look in the Slayer's eyes. "I'm fine, Buffy. I just had a bit of a shock," she said, understating the obvious.

"What happened?" asked Spike softly.

She looked back at him and said, "I left your apartment…and then I started to walk down the street and the next thing I knew I was waking up in this room over on Sycamore Street."

"Sycamore Street, Giles," Buffy said, picking up an axe from the chair where she had left it earlier when Willow had staggered through the door. "At least we know where to go, now. I think it's about time we had some answers," she said determinedly, walking toward the door.

"Buffy, there's something weird going on," Willow interrupted. The Slayer halted and looked back toward the pale redhead.

Willow explained what had happened at the house with the demons, and the conversation she had overheard.

"How did you get out, Will?" asked Xander, frowning.

"That's the strange thing. Some sort of magic helped me. My hands and feet began to glow and then my shackles were turned to brittle ice. I only had to move and the bindings broke. What else do you know about why I'm back, Giles?" she asked strongly, staring at the watcher.

"I must look in my books," he replied. "But it looks as though when you returned, you didn't come back powerless." Walking through to the dining room, Willow could hear the Watcher mumbling as he read from the pages of one of the books on the dining room table.

Seeing the looks that Spike and Willow were exchanging, Buffy ushered the others out of the room, leaving the witch and the vampire alone.

"I didn't mean—"

"I'm sorry—"

They each broke off what they had started to say. "You first," said Spike.

Willow took a deep breath and said, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for what I said before…"

"No, I'm the one who should apologise," Spike said strongly. "It should never have happened. You had just been attacked, and there I am, going at you like a rutting bull. It shouldn't have happened," he repeated.

Willow's breath suspended in her throat, unable to believe anything could hurt this much. "Are you sorry it happened?" she asked brokenly.

Teeth clenched, he said, "It's wrong, and I know that we'd never work – I mean, I'm a vampire and you're the Slayer's best friend, and all –"

"What does Buffy have to do with it? This is about me and you. Are you sorry that it happened?" she repeated, staring at him earnestly.

He grimaced and said, "I know I should, but I just can't be. When I lost you last year… I thought nothing could hurt that much, but I would gladly have died a thousand deaths to have just one more day with you. And now that I have you back, I just seem to be making everything worse."

Willow was about to speak, when Giles ran into the room and shouted exultantly, "Yes!"

Glaring at him, Buffy walked back in as she saw that Willow and Spike had not had time to finish their conversation, but to no avail, as her scornful looks just bounced off the oblivious Giles.

Holding up one of his books, he said, "This entry says that the fight between the witch and the beast will take place on the third full moon after the festival of St. Vertaine." At all of their blank looks, he added, "That's tonight. Willow will face the Drackar tonight."

"Yeah, but didn't the original prophecy say that she had to die to defeat it?" asked Xander, frowning.

Giles nodded and said, "Yes, that's what it said, but I also found another entry in here that said that the witch will have powers to aid her in her quest. I can only assume that this is the reason she was able to heal herself. If she does get hurt, she'll be able to deal with it."

Willow stood up and walked over to the window and listened to the arguments starting behind her. Spike, Buffy and Xander were arguing with Giles about Willow fighting the Drackar.

"Isn't anyone going to ask Willow what she wants?"

For a moment, she went unheard by all the people in the room except for Spike. He stared at her, and the others realised that he was no longer taking part in their conversation.

"What does Willow want to do?" the vampire asked, stony-faced.

Still staring out of the window, she spoke calmly. "What choice do I have? Nobody else can do this for me. I'm the one," she said simply. "There can't be any arguments. It's just what I have to do." Looking gravely at Giles, she asked, "What happens next?"

He was about to reply when Xander looked out of the window and pointed to something outside. "Do you think maybe we should be taking notice of that?"

Standing outside the house were about twenty vampires, growling and appeared menacing. In front of them, stood three men, old and wizened. They were chanting something, they could hear that even through the windows.

"Well, I hope them lads keep it down, Mr. Rogers down the street doesn't like his beauty sleep interrupted," said Buffy, trying to break the tension with a bit of levity.

"Come out, Witch!" called the man in the middle.

Like a sleepwalker, Willow walked toward the front door. Calling out, Spike ran after her and grabbed her roughly by the arm, halting her approach.

"I won't let you do this, Willow," he muttered roughly.

"Spike, this is what I've been bought back for. I _have_ to do this," she insisted, grasping both his hands in hers. "I can handle this as long as I know that you're going to be right here, waiting for me."

Spike closed his eyes, lifting her hands to his lips. "I don't know what I'll do if I lose you again, Willow. It nearly killed me last time," he added brokenly.

Willow gathered him to her, tenderly running a hand through her lover's hair. "I'll be fine, Spike." She smiled. "Believe me when I say I have things to live for," she added determinedly. She pulled herself from his arms and turned resolutely toward the front door. "Let's get this finished, so we can get on with our lives."

Buffy walked to her and hugged her. "I don't care what you say, Willow. We will be there with you. Nowhere in the prophecy does it say that you have to do it alone. You've always been there for me when I was fighting – I'm just returning the favour," she added smilingly.

Willow looked at Giles, who shrugged his shoulders. The Slayer was quite right – the prophecy only said that Willow would fight the Drackar – it didn't say she had to do it alone.

"OK, then gang – let's go the save the world again, shall we?" Willow asked rhetorically.

As they opened the door and stepped out into the night, the chanting from the elderly men stopped abruptly.

"Witch!" called the tallest of the three. "Surrender to us, and we will let your friends go unharmed."

Buffy sneered. "Yeah, like we believe that. Come on Willow, can we kill them now?"

Willow stepped up to the front, flanked immediately by both Spike and Buffy on either side. "I think that's a great idea, Buffy. I've only just returned from the dead – you're not sending me back there," she grated, glaring at the men standing before them.

The taller man laughed scornfully. "You'd better get used to the idea, girl. But at least this time you won't be going back alone – you'll have your friends with you. We gave you a chance to let them go, but so be it."

The three men lifted their hands and began chanting again. A bright light engulfed the trio and Willow and the others covered their eyes at the brilliance. They heard a huge roar and they looked up to see a huge beast standing behind the three warlocks.

"Oh, crap," said Willow.

The group of demons who had been standing behind the warlocks suddenly gave a collective shout and surged forward. Buffy, Giles, Xander and Anya ran to meet them and there was mayhem as fists met flesh.

"You need to go and help them, Spike," Willow said. "The Drackar is mine," she added, not taking her eyes from the huge beast before them.

"I'll help you first, Willow," he said, also staring at the Drackar.

"No, Spike. This is the way it has to be." She smiled grimly. "I know exactly what I need to do. I understand what Jenny meant now. I've been given powers to defeat the beast and that's what I need to do. I'll be fine," she insisted, grasping his hand tightly. "You need to help the others, Spike."

Looking into her eyes, he felt calmness come over him at her assurance. "I'll be back to help as soon as I can, Willow." He kissed her fiercely, knowing this wouldn't be the last time he would speak to her. With a roar, he put his 'game face' on and ran into the battle.

She watched him rip the throat out of one of the demons and kick another in the groin. Smiling, she turned back to the Warlocks. "Well, boys, what have you got for me?"

Still chanting, they faced the Drackar. It looked at them, as though it could understand what they were saying. Roaring, it looked at Willow, bloodlust in its eyes. "Come on beastie," she muttered grimly. "Show me what you've got."

The Drackar shoved its way past the three warlocks, knocking them to the ground. It lurched over and towered over Willow, suddenly reaching for her. However, she was too quick for it, and moved out of the way. It looked at its claw blankly for a second as though wondering why she wasn't in its grasp and she realised that whatever else the Drackar had going for it, it didn't have a 180 IQ. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.

"Not the fastest thing on two legs, are you?" she asked mockingly.

It roared and suddenly lashed out with its other arm. It hit her in the stomach and she went flying backwards, knocking the wind out of herself.

"Willow!" cried Spike, quickly dispatching the demon he was fighting, by swiftly breaking its neck. He ran over to Willow and helped her up.

She coughed, desperately trying to breathe. "Are you OK?" she asked him. Beside a slight redness around one of his eyes where a demon had got in one lucky shot before being swiftly killed, he didn't have a mark on him.

"I should be asking you that," he replied. "The others can handle the few demons who are left. I'm here to help you now," he added grimly.

"I appreciate it," she said wryly. "The Drackar's bloody strong, I'll give him that. But not strong enough," she added grimly. "I think it's time I pulled some magic out my hat."

She turned around in time to see the Drackar lumber over to where she and Spike were standing. Behind them, the sounds of fighting ceased, as the last of the demons were killed by Buffy and the others, the warlocks having run off at the first sign of trouble like the cowards they were.

"So where are we?" Buffy asked coming to stand behind Willow and Spike, staring up at the Drackar as it approached them.

Staring into the eyes of the beast that stood before them, Willow said grimly, "It's time to end you, my friend. Stand back, guys, I don't know what's going to happen here." She slowly lifted her hands and they all saw that they were glowing with an unearthly blue glow. Willow closed her eyes, her head tilting back slightly as she pointed them at the Drackar.

The beast backed up slightly, confused at what was happening. Though its brain power was not high, it knew that something powerful was coming. It roared as the bright blue energy exploded from Willow's body and arrowed straight into its own chest. It fell to its knees, screaming in agony as the power ripped through its body.

Its skin began to char and burn as the energy burned it from within. Within seconds, the only thing left was a charred carcass, which vaguely resembled a massive pot roast.

With its last dying breath, it stretched an arm out and knocked Willow's hand, which suddenly pointed in the direction of Spike, who hadn't moved from Willow's side as she had directed. Willow screamed as Spike was engulfed in flames.

"Spike!" The vivid blue energy disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Spike screamed in agony as his skin burned to a crisp. Giles immediately took his coat off and wrapped it around Spike as he writhed on the floor. The fire was out within seconds.

Willow fell to her knees beside Spike, unable to comprehend what was happening. "Spike," she sobbed, tears falling from her eyes in rivulets down her face.

Spike coughed, his eyes opening slightly in a scarred face, grimacing at the pain. "Don't be sad, Willow. I'll always love you. I'm happy," he mumbled, his voice petering out as his eyes closed and his head lolled to one side.

"No!" she screamed. "I don't want to be here if you're not in the world with me," she sobbed brokenly, gently grasping his poor burned hands. "How am I supposed to go on without you?"

Buffy bent down and lifted Willow to her feet. "He's gone, Will. He can't hear you." She hugged her best friend tightly to her.

Willow shook her head as it lay on Buffy's shoulder. "This can't be right, Buffy. Jenny said that Spike was integral to this and that I would need him. I can't believe that she meant that I would end up killing him."

"That isn't what I meant, Willow."

They gasped as the apparition appeared before them. "Jenny!" Giles breathed.

Jenny smiled gently. "Hello, Rupert."

"Are you…ok?" he asked brokenly.

"I'm OK. We'll be together again, Rupert. Don't worry so much," she added, gently brushing a hand over his.

She walked over to Willow, who was crying. "Don't be sad, Willow. You've not lost him," she added.

"B-but, look at him," Willow said, her voice cracking. "Even a vampire can't survive that."

"If he was dead, Willow, he would have turned to dust. He just needs time to recuperate," Jenny replied. "You didn't come back the same, Willow. You're immortal," she added shockingly. "And when Spike sipped your blood, he became the same as you. He won't have problems any more with the sun and he won't die; and neither will you."

Willow's eyes widened in wonder. "This is what you meant when you said Spike was a part of this. It wasn't necessarily the fight – he's part of me, isn't he?" she asked.

Jenny smiled. "Go to him, Willow. He'll need you." Smiling benignly, she looked at all of them and said, "Be good to each other. Goodbye, my friends." With that, she vanished.

They stood there for a second, none of them moving. Suddenly, Spike gave a groan and sat up. "What's going on?" he asked, yawning. They saw with shock that he was completely healed.

"Willow!" he exclaimed, as he suddenly found himself on his back again, the red-haired witch lying on him, kissing him desperately. "What happened? Did we kill the beast? Is the world safe again?"

Willow sat up, touching his hand. She smiled at them all as they surrounded her; these were the best friends anyone could ever ask for.

She stood and grasped Spike's hands helping him to his feet.

Willow heard Xander ask Buffy what Jenny had meant about Spike drinking Willow's blood in an undertone. Tightly grasping Spike's hand in hers, Willow smiled. "I think we all have a lot to talk about."

The end.

25


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